


Harry "Hotspur" Percy: Fiery War

by skysonfire



Series: Joe Armstrong [15]
Category: The Hollow Crown (2012)
Genre: F/M, Henry IV Part I, I'm sorry Shakespeare, Joe Armstrong - Freeform, Joe Armstrong Actor, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Shakespeare, Smut with a Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:28:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22131802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysonfire/pseuds/skysonfire
Relationships: Harry "Hotspur" Percy/Original Female Character
Series: Joe Armstrong [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/159608





	Harry "Hotspur" Percy: Fiery War

The fire crackled and blistered in the ornamented hearth, the beat of the flames echoing the quiet throbbing of her heart; the pulse singing in her throat. The stone walls of the solar seemed heavy, but the orange flicker warmed the room and caressed everything with a soft and exhausted relief. Caught in the atmosphere’s spell, Harry slept behind her on the floor, his long, leathered legs bent along her hips on both sides, and his back lazing on a cushioned bench. His breathing was shallow and temperate; quiet like a baby’s and steady — she could feel the timed heaving of his bare chest against her back. It felt like dancing, like life, and as she closed her eyes she pressed to feel the beat of his heart along her spine.

She tilted her head back against his neck and whispered to the air, “What am I, my lord? A visitor in a home that feels like my own with a husband I’ve never known, save for in memories that are not mine.”

“What am I, if not Harry Percy’s whore?”

Her voice was mellow and as she said the words, they faded into the darkest corners of the room to wait and fester. She could feel his body rouse at the question as his muscles tightened around her and a stern inflection manifested audibly in his throat.

“What are you, my lady?” He relayed, and his mouth answered not with words, but kisses as he touched with his lips at the most sensitive points of her neck.

His motions both enticed and frustrated her, as she was unable to resist her wanting and the urge to supplicate him with her body. As she shifted her position and spanned his lap to marry their lips, tears pointed her eyes. Perhaps she was only his whore.

He overwhelmed her mouth with insatiable purpose and drove his hands under her simple shift and along the velvety skin of her thighs. She groaned across his mouth as she felt an intense quickening between her legs, like a fiery desperation that only he could extinguish. She tugged at the laces of his breeches, releasing his firm heat to her. When she lowered herself on him she watched a change in his celestial eyes, but he kept his gaze fixed on her and as he rolled her hips on him, he bit his lower lip, overwhelmed by sensation.

He encouraged her on more quickly and she pushed against him hard, bracing herself against the bench behind his back. He burned inside of her like the fire licking against the hearth, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Tell me,” she begged, and he sat forward to bring his face close to her own. She braided her fingers through his sandy hair and he slowed their dance.

His mouth made to respond, but a winter wind pitched down the hearth’s shaft and fanned at the flames that blazed at her back. She could see their reflection in his apologetic stare. There was a cold char there, a scalding truth, but he pressed his lips to her ear and quelled her trembling.

“A fiery war in my heart,” he said.


End file.
